The Tale of Olive
by Concetta Capulet
Summary: A retelling of "Martin the Warrior" through Olive the squirrelmaid's eyes. Olive journeys towards Marshank to find out what happened to her mother and gets caught up in a rebellion between former slaves and Lord Badrang. She and a performing troupe await the arrival of Martin the Warrior's army but not before giving Marshank their best shot and losing somebeasts on the way.


The young squirrelmaid hopped from tree to tree in excitement. "Look, Mama! You're nothing but a little ant!"

Her mama chuckled from below. "Be careful, darling. Don't go too far now or I'll have to come and get you for a good whacking!"

The young squirrelmaid was a Dibbun – or young folk – and squirrel Dibbuns did not usually climb trees until adolescence. However, for a squirrelmaid of five seasons, she was wild and she and her mother often traveled together. Under the newborn autumn sun, the squirrelmaid Dibbun tugged on her little green skirt and opened the front flap to add more nuts to the pile that she had gathered all afternoon. The trees of the Scrubby Woodlands were bountiful and for as long as she could remember, she and her mother wanted for nothing. The woods often contained creatures of all kinds and the two squirrel nomads often stayed in the hollows built by their pygmy shrew friends during snowfall. The shrews were not inviting at first but once the squirrel mother offered her archery services to their colony, they would let the squirrelmaids lodge in their caverns in between treks. Shrews were short and stout and their weapons of choice were often daggers (swords were far too large and lengthy for the common shrew) and handmade leather slings. Bows were built rather flexible, with strings that stretched much farther than a shrew's armspan, and they were considered to be an advancement in weaponry, particularly providing improvements in distance and accuracy. Only mice, hares, squirrels, badgers, and goodbeasts and vermin of such sizes could master the weapon.

A few seasons ago, the shrewmaid Dibbun, Princess Amballa of the Highbeasts colony, wandered off near Fort Marshank against the word of her mother, the Queen Abmarra of Highbeasts. All sorts of ugly creatures lived in Fort Marshank, from weasels to rats to ferrets to foxes. These creatures committed murder and enslaved many under the tyranny of a large black stoat, with the fear that he would rip out their innards with a sword that he had once gained from a mouse warrior he claimed he had defeated. Whispers snuck their way through the woods, whispers that it was no mouse warrior but rather a mere mousebabe. The tyrant was a former corsair captain and was said to have slain another corsair with it, thus winning the sword. Other rumors stated that the mouse warrior was lost at sea during the battle, leaving the tyrant with the sword. At least one whisper was true: the stoat was known as Badrang and all goodbeasts and vermin alike feared his name.

Princess Amballa had never been past the lining of the colony and she was overjoyed to finally discover the sea shells on the shores of Fort Marshank. Captain Hisk, a weasel and head slave driver from Badrang's horde, happened to be passing by a few meters away with a chain of new slaves at his side. The little shrew princess was far too enthralled by a beautiful iridescent seashell to take notice, let alone her unfortunate height and naivety. The weasel had his eyes on the young shrew but he was not the only one for a heavily pregnant squirrel observed from behind a ledge. She had been resting there for a month, relying on a small oasis, trout, and random berries and fruits for survival.

The squirrel soon-to-be-mum clenched her bow tightly. She was weary from her journey but should the weasel pose any danger to what seemed like some fuzzball Dibbun, she would strike. The Dibbun had to be at most four seasons older than her unborn child, she had guessed. Any beast who would lay a paw on any helpless young 'un would have to answer to her. Her paws were at the ready with an arrow drawn from her quiver and…she waited.

Hisk tied his slaves aside the walls of the cliff that supported the fortress and tacitly made his way towards the shrew babe. He had tossed his spear aside so the pregnant observer lowered her bow by an inch. However, she remained erect. The weasel approached the young shrew from behind and crossed his arms. What a pathetic Dibbun she was! She was far too fixated on the seashells that she hadn't even heard him from behind!

"Ahem," he glowered in a mock-childish tone. "Might I see the pretty things on yer hand, lassie?"

The shrew babe jolted around in shock, dropping her seashells. They fell into the foaming brine, splashing over the petticoat of her little lilac gown. The weasel towered over her greatly and his yellow eyes pierced maddeningly under their heavy brown lids.

"Pretty rocks. Wanna give to Marramum." She shivered after answering. The weasel was truly frightening to the shrew babe, and rather ugly. Was he one of the ugly beasts her mother warned her about? However, he was interested in her pretty rocks and she was, too, so perhaps she could share them with him.

"Yer Marramum, eh?" Hisk bent low on his knees and leaned in closer. "Tell me, young 'un, arr there more shrews like yerself where yer Marramum lives?"

"What ugly beast say? Marramum say lotta ugly beast outside 'a home!"

"I mean yer friends. Where do yer friends live, young 'un?"

The shrew babe scanned her surroundings. She truly was lost. "Home," she sighed. "Wherra home now? Ugly beast take Balla home?"

The weasel's eyes glinted darkly. "Yes…" he hissed, "Let me take ye home." His arms reached out to pick up the young shrew and she was ready to jump into his arms until he doubled over suddenly. "YEOW!"

The squirrelmaid had used the end of her bow to strike him. "Back away, young one!" she commanded. "Didn't your mother teach you to stay away from vermin?"

Hisk spat and struggled to get up from the sand below, his head throbbing. "Ye will answer to Badrang fer hittin' his Captain! He won't care how pretty ye are."

His opponent drew her bowstring. "Young one, look away." The shrew babe obeyed and her protector kicked sand into the weasel's eyes. "I, Violet of Noonvale, will answer to no one."

"YEEEEEOWWWWW!"

The outcry was so loud it stretched farther than the slaves its yeller had chained up, piercing into the front gates of Fort Marshank. Violet the squirrelmaid acted with haste and grabbed the shrew babe as her victim laid shrieking in pain. Blood spurted out of the left side of his face.

"ME EYE! ME EYE! THE SQUIRREL BITCH'S GOT ME EYE!"

The shrew babe had caught a sight of the bloodied vermin and wailed.

"Hush now! You'll wake the guards up!" Violet impatiently hissed. The babe's screams lowered to whimpers. The squirrelmaid ran towards Hisk's slaves. "Are all of you alright?"

An ottermaid looked up in disgust. "I think none of us can say so, mate. That damn weasel's been draggin' us all under the hot sun fer half a season."

"Perhaps I can help. My arrowheads might be able to pick the locks. Please stay calm now." Violet gently freed the shrew babe from her arms. "What is your name, friend?"

"Allyeh from the Northlands," the ottermaid replied and shook the chains that bound her and an otter Dibbun together, "This is my son Keyla."

Violet fumbled with Allyeh's lock but smiled warmly and shook the ottermaid's paw. "I'm Violet, from Noonvale."

"Violet?" A deep voice emerged from the grey masses of sullen slaves. A burly male squirrel approached the squirrelmaid. Their eyes met. His grey fur drooped slightly above his hazel eyes. He was more emaciated than when Violet had last seen him but the sight of him warmed her heart for the first time in seven seasons. He, like Allyeh, had chains connected to a Dibbun.

"Jonny?"

The grey squirrel nodded.

"How is it that you ended up here?" They clasped each other's paws, the grey and black furs mingling in their grips.

"It is a long tale, my old friend. I can't tell you how—"

"—what's all this blubberin' about? Coulda sworn I heard Hisk out here." The squirrels' reunion was cut short by an armed fox and a sea rat who appeared before the slaves, swinging the fortress' gates behind them.

"Blimey, Skalrag! That's him over there!" The rat turned to the slaves. "Which one of ye did it?!"

"Oy! That pret'y one there's not chained up!" Skalrag the fox made his way towards the pregnant squirrelmaid.

Violet reached for her quiver and only felt a few arrows between her fingertips. She slipped a sling off of her girdle, grabbed a stone from the sand, and swung. The fox fell over, completely unconscious as the right side of his cranium swelled. The sea rat charged towards the squirrelmaid with his friend's javelin and she jerked to the side, tripping him with her bushy tail. Having gained the upper hand, she pounced on him and pinned his head into the sand with her elbow.

"LORD BADRANG!" he bellowed, coughing on sand. "LORD BADRANG! MY LORD! HELP!"

The bells of Fort Marshank rang and Violet was unphased, her grip tightening on the vicious sea rat.

"Ye'd better run, missy, or that child of yers will never be born," he snarled.

Violet knew he was right. She, a pregnant and fatigued squirrelmaid, chained prisoners, and a shrewmaid Dibbun were no match for Badrang's horde. In a swift motion, she knocked the sea rat unconscious with the fox's javelin and carried the shrew babe in her arms before leaping away from the vermin that laid in the sand. She heard distant rumbling footsteps and the clamoring of armor and weaponry in the fortress above and cast a desperate look at Jonny.

"Go, Violet!" Jonny urged. "Get you and that babe to safety! They can't make you slaves! Not you, too!"

Violet nodded and ran as fast as she could, towards the direction of the woods. She looked back at her old friend, one babe in her arms and the other in her womb. "I'll be back for you, Jonny! For all of you!"

She ran so fast that the shores of Fort Marshank disappeared behind her and darkened into the evening of the Scrubby Woodlands. After hours, she knew that Badrang and his army would never find her so she slowed down and let the shrew babe walk beside her.

"W-where is your family, child?" Violet panted.

"Balla live-um with Marramum."

The squirrelmaid sipped from her canteen and offered it to the shrew babe. "Marramum? Marramum?" She furrowed her brow. Shrewspeak was often difficult to decipher. Shrews were known to jumble all sorts of words together in their speech. "Marramum is your mother?"

"Yes, yes! Marramum is Queen!"

Violet stopped in her tracks. "Oh! Your mother is Queen Abmarra? Oh heavens! What were you doing out there on vermin grounds?"

"Balla getsum lost."

"Don't worry, I know where your family lives," Violet said gravely. Just about a month ago, the squirrelmaid pleaded with the shrew queen to let her stay at the colony after running away from Gawtrybe, a savage tribe of squirrels. Not all squirrels got along like Violet and her old friend Jonny and after a dreadful encounter with one of Gawtrybe's warrior's, Violet fled to the north where she knocked on Queen Abmarra's door. The queen did not take lightly to her abrupt guest. She was small and as stout as any common shrew but she wore a pride worthy of the largest badgers. Shrews were always warmly welcomed in with the Highbeasts but to larger beastskind, they were shooed away for fear of attack, were they goodbeasts or vermin. With the door slammed in her face, Violet had made her way into the nearby marshes alone. However, Violet had just saved the princess shrew babe. Perhaps the queen would now let her stay.

The night grew darker still, and the two companions had arrived at the gates of the colony. "Balla dearest, I think it's best if you talked to your Marramum and tell her what happened before she sees me. Can you do that…princess?"

"Yesum! Balla get Marramum!" the shrew babe cried shrilly.

She watched the shrew babe hop past the entrance and leaned against the outside walls for support. For what was considered to be a shrew palace, it hardly towered over the squirrelmaid and she sank onto her buttocks in exhaustion. She stroked her hard belly and thought of Jonny. She remembered their summer days in Noonvale, admiring the sycamore trees that the chieftain's son had planted. They would run along the shadows and hide as their parents came looking for them. The stars above Noonvale were always bright and clear, like Jonny's eyes. Oh, how it saddened her to see her former lover in chains! "If…" she wondered aloud, "if my child is a boy, I shall name him Jonny." As she spoke, she realized that her throat had run dry. She shook her canteen above her desperate lips. A few drops landed on her tongue and her arms dropped. She wept suddenly and silently. Violet was nearly due, fatigued and scratched from her struggle with the vermin, and waiting on the word of a mere Dibbun! A Dibbun whose mother once refused entry to her… She wept until her tired eyes could weep no more and fell asleep.

"But when did I get born?" The young squirrelmaid Dibbun in the green dress sat eagerly in her mama's lap.

"I'm getting there, my dear," her mama replied patiently. "Soon after, Queen Abmarra woke me up and let me in. 'Yousum saved me shrew babe, squirrel!' she said." Violet's voice bounced starkly in a perfect imitation of Shrewspeak and her little Dibbun laughed. "And she let me in. I felt the contractions soon afterwards and they showed me to my room. A few days later, the queen's midwives helped me deliver you into the world. Princess Amballa was quite overjoyed to finally meet you."

"Did it hurt, mama?"

"Well, of course it did. The shrews stuck an olive branch into my mouth and I bit ever so firmly onto it. You were a feisty squirrel babe. But it would have hurt more knowing that you would have never been born."

The squirrelmaids nuzzled against each other under the pine trees. By morning, the squirrelmaid Dibbun woke up in a soft bed of pine needles. Her mother had possibly gone to find some lake trout, she thought. She waited and waited there until Queen Abmarra came looking for her in the evening.

"Where-um Vilamum, Olivebabe?"

"I don't know, your majesty. I've been waiting all day."

The shrew queen was the same height as the squirrel Dibbun but nevertheless, the maternal instinct that she felt was almost as natural as her relationship with the young Princess Amballa. "Why doncha you come with Marramum? We wait forra Vilamum." She extended her paw towards the babe and led her back to the colony. The seasons passed and the young squirrelmaid grew strong and beautiful like her mother and often wore her head of fur in a dark braid. She even learned how to master the bow and arrows and helped to protect the Highbeast colony in her mother's absence. Eleven seasons later, Olive the squirrelmaid lived in the Scrubby Woodlands, and Violet of Noonvale never returned.


End file.
